


Those Who Cry Wolf

by Wilderwest



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Park Rangers AU, Whump, Wolf!Toothless - Freeform, hiccup!whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 19:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilderwest/pseuds/Wilderwest
Summary: Wolves haven't roamed the forests of Berk for nearly a decade, but when campers begin to hear howls in the night, Astrid is sent to investigate.What she uncovers is far more dangerous than a beast in the night.---[Park Ranger!AU with a dark twist]





	Those Who Cry Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Starting a new Au? It's more likely than you think!
> 
> I recently just moved (and I'm technically still in the process of moving) so my fic updates are slow, but I promise I've been working on Stand Unshaken and Wings of Fire.

The phone was already ringing when Astrid walked through the doors of the Berk Forests National Park Ranger Station Three.

Glancing at her wristwatch as she closed the door behind her, it blinked 0400 in red LED lights. The station was empty, save for her—which was curious considering Snotlout was supposed to be on the late shift.

On the walls, antique paintings of wildlife hung, their painted eyes watching Astrid as she crossed the room. Through the windows, wisps of light shined, but the day was young, and it was dark as Astrid placed her half-eaten banana on the shared desk and grabbed the phone.

Flicking on an old, brass desk lamp, she lifted the phone to her ear with a sense of urgency, mentally cursing Snotlout for skipping out on his responsibilities. If another ranger's station was calling this early in the morning, there must have been an emergency: a fire or a flood or a mother wanting a refund on camping passes because it rained.

Bulky and with a  too-long, knotted cord, the outdated phone fit into the space between her shoulder and ear as she leaned against the sturdy, wooden desk. On the line, Ranger Fishlegs Ingerman spoke I rapid bursts, sounding far more awake than she felt.

“Snotlout? Where have you been? Thank Thor, you finally picked up, we—”

“It’s me, Fishlegs,” Astrid interjected. “Snotlout left early, no surprise. What’s wrong?”

Some campers—get this, Astrid!” And she swore there was a twinge of excitement to his tone. “Some campers called in from near Raven’s Point. They say they’ve heard a wolf howling all night!”

“Fishlegs,” She groaned. “Wolves haven’t lived in Berk’s forests for over a decade. You know that.” She settled back into her chair, shrugging out of her heavy ranger’s jacket. “It’s probably just some teenagers playing a prank. Or a really big dog. You know how city people can be.”

Situated in the far north of the Barbaric Archipelago, Berk was more forest than village. A tiny island dense with boreal forests and a plethora of animals, people traveled from all over Europe to hike the snowcapped mountains and kayak in the pristine rivers.

In her five years as a park ranger, Astrid had seen a lot. From drunks to wild animals to the Thorston twins pretending to be lycanwings, there was little that could surprise her at this point.

“I know, I know,” Fishlegs said “But it  _ really _ seems like it could be a wolf. What if it is? That could mean there’s a pack! And a pack would mean a breeding population! Do you know what the first breeding population in a decade could do for the local fauna?”

Rolling her eyes, Astrid let Fishlegs ramble about the ecological benefits of apex predators for another moment before cutting him off, “—I’ll go check it out, but don’t get your hopes up. Grimmel killed the last wolf when we were kids. “

“Right,” He said, deflating at her history lesson. “I knew that…just be careful, Astrid.”

“I always am.” She assured. "Keep your channel open, I’ll keep you updated.”

Ending their conversation, she shoved the rest of her banana into her mouth and pulled her jacket back on.

Tugging her braid from beneath the thick fabric, she let it fall down her left shoulder before scribbling a note in the off-chance that Snotlout would come back to finish his shift.

Raven’s Point, roughly ten miles from Station Three, was a secluded, primitive campground known for its waterfalls and ancient trees. Climbing into her jeep, she relented that it was  _ just _ far away enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear a wolf’s howl from her post and that maybe,  _ maybe _ there could be some legitimacy to Fishleg’s theory.

Turning onto the main road, her Jeep cut through the morning mist. Careful to avoid the skittering squirrels or bother the grazing reindeer, she kept her eyes trained for any sign of a wolf.

Down the path, the animals seemed undisturbed, more concerned with Astrid’s intrusion that the invasion of an apex predator. The wildlife’s passive nature combined with the lack of discarded carcasses or wolf droppings reaffirmed Astrid’s belief that a wolf was an impossible visitor to Berk’s forests.

Reaching a scenic overlook, Astrid made to turn her vehicle around. She had paperwork and rounds to do and this wild goose chase had cost her precious time. She would be behind schedule for the rest of the day if she didn't pick up her pace. 

But then, stopping her jeep mid-turn, she heard it: a wolf howl.  Crisp and clear, it cut through the air and echoed off the trees. 

 Astrid put the jeep in park and jumped out, rushing to the edge of the overlook.

The howl echoed, but after a few moments of concentration, Astrid pinned the noise to Thor’s Hammer, a lake that ran parallel to Raven’s Point. Fortunately, the area contained few campsites due to constant flooding.

She patted her belt, checking for her tranquilizer gun. If the wolf was hostile, she would need to be quick on the trigger.

Straying from the path, Astrid raised the radio to lips, pressing the button to speak. “Fishlegs? I think I found our wolf. Over.”

A few seconds of static hummed in the quiet morning before Fishleg’s voice rang out, “You did? Really? Did you Tranq it? Over.”

“Not yet, in pursuit. 10-22 is Thor’s Hammer. Over.”

“I’ll have a containment and veterinary team on standby.” He said, and across the radio, Astrid could hear the furious clicking of a keyboard. “ooh! Just think, Astrid! A wolf! In Berk!” The static buzzes for a few more seconds before Fishlegs remembered protocol. “over.”

“Riiight.” She says, voice even as her eyes scan the ground for prints to track. “Just remember: if it eats me, I want Snotlout held personally responsible. Over and out.”

Clicking the radio back into its holster, she slipped carefully between the trees. Stepping over a large, rotted tree, a flock of birds took to the sky, chirping angrily at Astrid for being disturbed.

Knowing she couldn't fight off a wolf, Astrid held her tranquilizer gun in front of her, ready to shoot should the wolf try to attack her. 

Stepping down the slope, the wolf howled again. Its cry echoed through the forest and bounced off the trees, but it’s starting location didn't appear to change.

Following the path of least resistance, Astrid arrived at Thor’s Hammer. Freezing in the tree line, the lake came into view. Thirty feet away, bathed in the early morning fog, a wolf—the wolf—paced at the water’s edge. Solid black but covered in mud, its fur hung in shaggy clumps.

Breath catching in her throat, all she could do was stare. She’d seen coyotes and foxes and even a protective mother bear before, but nothing could compare to the sheer  _ size _ of the wolf. Her finger hovered over the trigger of her gun as she took aim, watching the creature carefully.

The wolf, seemingly unaware of her presence, continued pacing, giant paws splashing at the shoreline. With shoulders hunched and ears pinned against its head, it walked along the edge, muzzle to the ground. Then, after a few laps of its path, it sat down on its haunches, lifted its muzzle to the sky, and howled once more.

Using the noise to her advantage, Astrid took a step forward, hoping to get a clear shot. Beneath her feet, a twig snapped.

The wolf’s head snapped up and suddenly two intelligent, green eyes were watching her with such intensity that it felt as though the wolf could see straight through her.

Heart pumping, she forced herself to stand still. Afraid of moving too quickly and startling the beast, Astrid was sure it could hear every thump of her nervous heart. Her gun weighed heavy in her hand as she aimed down the sights.

The wolf, noticing the gun, snarled, its muzzle curling up to show a mouth of sharp teeth.

Having a clear shot to the wolf’s chest, Astrid was about to pull the trigger when she noticed a thick, red leather collar breaking through the black fur.

“A collar?” She asked herself, lowering the gun. “Maybe you are just a really, really big dog…”

The really, really too-big-to-be-a-dog-dog threw its head back and howled. The combination of the proximity and the volume caused Astrid to cover her ears. “Okay, okay! Definitely a wolf! But why do you have a collar?”

The wolf tilted its head at her, tongue lolling from the side of its mouth. It stared at her for a few moments and eventually, Astrid lowered the gun, feeling less threatened.

Seeing the gun lowered, the wolf plodded to her side. Sitting at her feet, it stared up at her.

Cautiously, Astrid looked the wolf over, finding a silver tag peeking out from the matted black fur. Reaching forward, her thumb brushed across the engraving. “Toothless?”

The wolf barked in affirmation, pressing its wet nose into her stomach and whining pitifully.

Tentatively, Astrid ran her fingers through the coarse fur, gently unknotting the clumps that had formed around his collar. Aside from the collar and pet tag, the wolf’s passive demeanor was unlike anything Astrid had experienced in her Ranger training. Sure, the section on wolves was brief due to them being functionally extinct on Berk, but she knew without a doubt that wolves were not supposed to be pets. The creature at her feet acted more German Shepard than Tundra Wolf and it made her feel uneasy.

Careful not to startle the wolf, she ran her fingers down its neck and under its chin, jumping back as it grabbed the sleeve of her jacket with its teeth. Turning its head, it tugged her arm in the direction of Raven’s Point.

Frowning, Astrid pulled her jacket back, rubbing her forearm nervously. “What do you want?”

The wolf, to her disbelief, trotted a few steps away, throwing its head once again toward Raven’s Point. Ears perked, and tail wagging, the wolf watched her expectantly.

“You…want me to follow you?”

Again, acting unlike any animal Astrid had ever seen, the wolf nodded its large head before racing into the woods.

“Hey, wait!” Astrid called urgently, stowing her tranquilizer gun in its holster and rushing after the canine.

Through the ferns and fallen logs and thick trees, Astrid followed the wolf further and further into the woods. Passed Thor’s Hammer and Passed Raven’s Point, they hiked. The wolf turned its head back every few steps to ensure that Astrid was indeed still following.

Raising her radio to her mouth, she inhaled deeply before thumbing the button to speak. “Ranger Hofferson reporting in on the 10-91B. Currently in pursuit. Over.”

“Ranger Ingerman responding,” Fishlegs said formally. “Did you capture the wolf? Over.”

“Not yet, there’s been a…complication.” She said, lungs heaving as the wolf took a turn up a craggy hill. Pebbles tumbled down the slope as the pair climbed higher, Astrid having to crawl on all-fours at points to stay balanced. “The wolf…it has a collar. It’s someone’s  _ pet!  _ Fishlegs, it’s..it’s  _ tame!  _ Over.”

“A pet?” He asked, confusion clear even through the static. “Who would have a wolf for a pet and just…leave it? What’s your plan? Over.”

“It’s—“ She took a deep breath “—You’ll think I’m crazy, ‘Legs, but it’s leading me somewhere. I’m following it. Keep your channel live. I’ll keep you informed. Over and out.”

Finally clearing the hill, the ground leveled out and revealed a primitive campsite. Certainly not sanctioned by Berk Forests authorities, a lean-to was built into the side of a rocky hill. Made from tightly woven branches and leaves with a thin canvas thrown over the roof, Astrid’s training told her it was made by someone who knew what they were doing. In front of the shelter, a ring of stones sat cold. Once used for containing fires, it now was filled with ash and broken, burnt logs.

Without hesitation, the wolf entered the lean-to, curling up beside a pile of filthy blankets, its head resting on the center of the pile. Nose snuggling into a crevice, Astrid could hear it whining.

Then, from the pile of blankets, she heard a sickening hack and saw a pale, shaking hand rise from the mound to stroke the dark muzzle.

Rushing forward, Astrid pushed herself into the tiny shelter, nose crinkling at the smell. The foul odor of rot and vomit mixed with the smell of…almonds?

Beside the blankets, a rotten fish and a rabbit carcass sat. Buzzing from the wound openings, flies feasted on the forgotten prey. Astrid pushed the tainted meat away, hoping to ease the odor. Realizing the odor came from the blankets and  _not_ the discarded animals, she gagged,  covering her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket to avoid breathing in the putrid air.

Using her free arm, she pulled back the blankets.

Amidst the mud and the mold and the blood was a boy. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I think I need to say that I saw a similar story on Twitter and was inspired by it. However, the story on twitter taught me an important lesson about reading tags because it ended up being a werewolf abo story. :/
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think of this!


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